Oriental Health Aesthetics: The Time of Professor Qiu Zhenglun’s Explanation of the Book of Changes(72）

“The Nine in the Fourth Place (九四) follows the same principle: it may leap or soar—see? It may either ascend or remain in the depths (yuan 渊), where yuan signifies the abyss of water. Thus, like the Initial Nine (初九), it belongs to the upper trigram. If we analyze this hexagram’s three positions, the six-line hexagram shows its three constituent trigrams all beginning at the initial stage. Hence, ‘leaping or remaining in the deep, no grave fault’ (或跃在渊，无咎)—again, no major error.

Observe how this aligns with Confucius’ teaching: ‘If I could study the Changes at fifty, I might avoid major faults’ (五十以学易，可以无大过). The goal is to avoid grave mistakes.

Then comes Nine in the Fifth Place (九五)—life’s zenith. Though we cannot all be emperors or kings today, we can become sovereigns of our own lives. I am the king of my existence. See? ‘A dragon soars in the heavens’ (飞龙在天). But note the follow-up: ‘Beneficial to meet the great man’ (利见大人). If I’m already sovereign of my life, why seek a ‘great man’? This ‘great man’ signifies the interaction between Nine Two and Nine Five: it means seeking a successor. For you, as you mature and reach our stage, it’s time to consider your heirs—the same principle applies. Consider the sage-kings Yao, Shun, and Yu: theirs was an era of abdication (though historical details are unverifiable). Tradition holds that Yao passed power to Shun, and Shun to Yu—this defines the age of sage-kings.

Zhuangzi’s Carefree Wandering (《逍遥游》) illustrates this with Xu You and the Yellow Emperor. Xu You says: ‘You are the sun; I am but a torch. Now that you shine, I should yield authority.’ But Xu You also reflects: ‘You’ve perfected governance—why make me a mere accessory (bin 宾)? I refuse.’ Thus, ancient abdication rituals reveal profound virtue in relinquishing power—a topic we’ll not delve into here.

Finally, the last stage—critically relevant to modern Chinese, especially those in politics, the ultra-wealthy, and the highly successful: ‘The dragon at zenith will regret’ (亢龙有悔). In reality, what is ‘the dragon at zenith’? Unbridled exuberance, right? Like my passionate lecturing! Yet ‘regret’ follows. Consider corrupt officials: do they feel remorse? Only in prison—too late. ‘Regret’ here (hui 悔) transforms calamity into fortune. But observe: those stripped of power rarely yield willingly. Real-world ‘dragons at zenith’ refuse regret—yet this line warns the successful: embrace regret. Regret defuses unforeseen perils. This is the wisdom of the Qian hexagram.”